


I Will Always Come Back to You

by grantairas



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:08:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grantairas/pseuds/grantairas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles remembers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Will Always Come Back to You

Achilles sits alone, lets the memories return.

He had just returned to the camp, slipping into the tent with a barely concealed smile. After the fighting, the clash of flesh against metal and the smell of the blood, he would see his Patroclus. He would hold him, and breathe him in, and see the warmth in his dark eyes as he listened to the stories Achilles would tell. It was always the same, but he never tired of it.

Today, though, Patroclus was asleep. The line of sunlight fell across his body, covered the places where the blanket had slipped off. He was so beautiful, Achilles thought, even the sun loved him.

He moved across the small space and sat beside him, careful not to wake him when he gently stroked his cheek. He loved the warmth of him under his fingers. He could feel his pulse fluttering, just beneath the suntanned skin of his throat.

“Patroclus,” he whispered. “Patroclus, the reason for my happiness.”

He kissed him. He wanted to stay that way, with his lips pressed against his forehead. But then he was pulling away, and Patroclus’ eyes were open, seeing him.

“I tried not to wake you,” Achilles said softly. Patroclus smiled.

“Why not? I love to see you.”

He helped Achilles undress as he listened to him speak. They had always told each other everything, and there was something in their honesty with each other that Achilles knew he could never have with another. Only Patroclus. He closed his eyes and let Patroclus’ gentle fingers brush back the tousled hair from his eyes.

“I will always come back to you,” he said, quietly. Patroclus stopped moving for just a moment.

“I know,” he murmured. He pressed a kiss to Achilles’ temple.

Later, they had left the camp, found a place on the beach that was new to the both of them. With every touch and every kiss, the stars above them flared and burnt a new part of it into his memory.

Now, Achilles remembers. He buries his hands in the sand and slowly moves his fingers through the grains. He could still feel Patroclus’ warmth there, maybe, but there is nothing, and soon the tears are blurring his vision, stinging him, again.

He had made his promise to always return, but he had not stopped to think of what would happen if Patroclus did not.


End file.
